Blue Like Friday by Siobhan Parkinson Page A

Let’s go and get some food.”
    I was reluctant to leave all the same. As long as we were in the hospital grounds, we had some chance of spotting the van, or Alec, but once we set off for town, the world was just too big, there was too much room for uncertainty. And yet, if I didn’t eat something soon, I knew I was going to collapse. My knees were wobbling already with hunger.
    We went back out through the pedestrian gateway and unlocked the bikes. The security man looked up as we rattled the chains. He gave us a friendly little wave.
    We waved back.

Chapter 9
    W e met this guard as we cycled back toward town. He was coming toward us on a bicycle. He was one of those cool guards, in shorts and a cycling helmet and a shiny yellow top.
    He raised his hand when he saw us. I suppose it was because we were on bikes; he probably thought we were all part of some big Cycling Movement or something like that, all soul mates or kindred spirits.
    I don’t know what possessed me, it must have been the friendly little salute, but I gave him a desperate wave and shouted, “Guard!” at him.
    He put a foot under him and skidded to a halt a few feet beyond us. I got off my bike and walked it back to him. Hal put his foot down and looked over his shoulder.
    â€œWhat can I do for you, young lady?” asked the guard.
    â€œWell,” I said, “we sort of … er … lost someone.”
    Hal gave a strangled little cry, but I ignored him.
    â€œWe saw him driving into the hospital,” I said. “But he never came out.”
    â€œWell,” said the guard, “this does happen. It might not
be a case of loss. I mean, was he sick, for example? Or going to visit someone? Or is he a doctor, or what?”
    â€œHe’s a painter,” I said.
    â€œAh,” said the guard with a grin. “A painter. Was he going to paint the hospital?”
    â€œThat’s right,” I said. “At least, that’s what he thought he was doing, only they weren’t actually expecting him, see.”
    â€œRight,” said the guard. “Hmm. Is there any more you can tell me?”
    â€œNo,” I said. “That’s it. I was just wondering, how long do you have to be missing before you are a Missing Person?”
    â€œWell, it depends,” said the guard. “How long has this person been missing?”
    â€œAbout three-quarters of an hour,” I said.
    â€œThat long, eh?” said the guard. I could see he thought this was funny.
    â€œIt may not sound very long,” I said, “but it is very mysterious.”
    â€œIndeed,” said the guard. “I see.” He didn’t see at all.
    â€œAnd who is the Missing Person?” asked the guard.
    â€œHis stepfather,” I said, pointing at Hal.
    The guard suddenly looked a bit more serious. Seems if you’ve just mislaid a miscellaneous someone, it’s kind of funny, but if it’s a parent, that’s a different matter.
    â€œAnd did ye try ringing him? I take it he has a mobile phone?”

    â€œEr, no,” I said. “I mean, yes, he has, but we didn’t.” We couldn’t very well ring him, I thought. We weren’t supposed to know anything about this visit to the hospital. As far as he was concerned, we were still at home having our breakfast, and anyway, Hal didn’t even talk to him, much less ring him up. But I couldn’t tell the guard that. It was all too complicated.
    â€œWell,” said the guard. “That’d be the first move, I’d say. The mobile phone.”
    Then he peered at Hal. “Are you …?” he called.
    Hal stared at him. He looked a bit scared.
    â€œAh no, you’re much bigger,” the guard said.
    Hal went on staring. He had started to shiver, though it wasn’t very cold. A bit breezy, maybe.
    â€œAnd, sure, it was years ago. But then, of course, you would be much bigger, wouldn’t you?”
    He made about